Tag: six

  • Sculpting Nostalgia: Suchit Sahni’s New Series of Automobile Sculptures

    Sculpting Nostalgia: Suchit Sahni’s New Series of Automobile Sculptures

    Suchit Sahni’s latest venture into sculpture is a significant departure from his earlier practice, yet it feels like a natural extension of his artistic journey. Known for his vibrant paintings of automobiles and urban narratives, Sahni now translates his fascination with movement, energy, and nostalgia into the realm of three-dimensional art. This new series of sculptures is crafted using stainless steel, fiber, and various metals, embodying fluid and playful lines that mirror the sense of dynamism captured in his paintings. These sculptures, while continuing to celebrate colour and sleek finishes, bring with them the tactile immediacy and immersive presence that only sculptural forms can provide.

    From Paint to Form: A New Dimension of Expression

    The use of colorful metal finishes in these sculptures reflects Sahni’s desire to extend his painterly vocabulary into new territory. His mastery of vibrant hues—previously confined to two-dimensional surfaces—now interacts with the materiality and form of sculpture, providing the audience with not just visual impact but also the possibility of touch and interaction. The shift to sculpture allows Sahni to explore the third dimension, where form, depth, and texture enhance the emotional and aesthetic experience of his work. These qualities make the objects feel alive, as if they are in constant motion, much like the urban scenes they depict.

    A Nostalgic Dialogue: Growing Up with Motion

    Sahni’s fascination with automobiles is deeply rooted in his childhood experiences. Growing up amidst the changing landscapes of Delhi, the buzz of bicycles, rickshaws, and motorcycles left an indelible mark on his imagination. His early sketches and observations, now transformed into vibrant sculptures, serve as a bridge between personal memory and public nostalgia. The use of metal—often associated with machines—symbolizes both the durability of these memories and the resilience of urban life.

    The sculptures not only reflect Sahni’s lifelong love for motion and speed but also celebrate his longing to capture fleeting moments. Each sculpture feels like a snapshot of movement frozen in time, evoking the same thrill he experienced as a child while observing the rhythmic energy of the streets. This connection to childhood is essential, as it allows the sculptures to transcend mere depictions of vehicles and become metaphors for personal growth, discovery, and change.

    Urban Life: Then and Now

    The contrast between Delhi’s past and present urban life is central to Sahni’s new series. His works evoke memories of a city that was once more intimate, where human interactions were at the heart of urban life. Automobiles like rickshaws and scooters symbolized shared experiences, offering glimpses into the everyday lives of people. Today, urban life has become faster and more fragmented, marked by private cars, congested highways, and digital distractions. The shift from communal modes of transportation to individual journeys mirrors a broader societal change—where community and connection are often sacrificed for convenience and speed.

    By recreating these vehicles in sculptural form, Sahni invites viewers to reflect on how urban life has evolved and to reconnect with the memories of a time when movement was not just physical but emotional and social. His sculptures capture this tension between the nostalgic past and the accelerated present, making them poignant reminders of what has been lost and what remains.

    The Importance of Sculpting Urban Narratives

    Sculpture, by its very nature, engages space in ways that paintings cannot. Sahni’s decision to transition to three-dimensional forms allows him to fully express his artistic vision. The viewer’s ability to move around the sculptures, engage with them from multiple angles, and feel their material presence adds a new level of meaning. These pieces are to be experienced, much like the streets and vehicles that inspired them.

    In a world that is increasingly defined by disposable digital images, Sahni’s sculptures remind us of the importance of physical presence and sensory engagement. His works encourage us to pause, to reflect on the journeys we take—both literal and metaphorical—and to find beauty in the interplay of motion, memory, and form.

    Conclusion

    Suchit Sahni’s new sculptural series marks a bold and exciting evolution in his artistic practice. By translating the themes of movement, nostalgia, and urban energy into sculptural objects, he offers viewers a richer and more immersive experience. These sculptures celebrate the aesthetics of automobiles, acting as cultural artifacts, preserving memories of a time when life was simpler, and movement was a shared experience. In doing so, Sahni’s work becomes a tribute to the power of art to connect the past with the present, inviting us to appreciate the beauty of journeys—both personal and collective.

  • The Prestige of Art: An Endangered Legacy

    The Prestige of Art: An Endangered Legacy

    There was a time when the pursuit of art carried immense prestige, a time when discerning collectors viewed their acquisitions as both an investment and a reflection of cultural sophistication. Today, however, that vision appears to be fading. The current generation of affluent individuals, seduced by the allure of real estate and high-end cars, seems to have little appetite for the deeper, intangible rewards of collecting art. Art, once revered as a status symbol embodying intellect, taste, and cultural capital, is now treated like an afterthought. What happened to the prestige of art, and why does it seem to have lost its foothold in the evolving language of luxury?

    A Changing Definition of Wealth

    For generations, the wealthy collected art not only to flaunt their taste but also to secure a piece of history and nurture a legacy. This was not merely about financial returns but about cultivating a cultural identity. Collectors sought masterpieces to align themselves with intellectual movements, to associate with narratives that mattered, and to safeguard works that would survive them. Art had a transcendental quality—it was not confined to time or trends but carried meaning that evolved across centuries. Today, however, the modern wealthy elite chase a different dream: sprawling penthouses, exotic sports cars, and vacations on private islands. Their obsession with tangible, easily flaunted displays of wealth reflects a shift from the symbolic to the superficial.

    From Culture to Commodity

    Art is no longer seen as an intrinsic part of culture but increasingly reduced to a mere commodity. In an era driven by metrics, ROI, and Instagram likes, the slow, contemplative process of appreciating art feels out of sync with the breakneck pace of modern life. As a result, art has lost its allure to the younger affluent class, who prefer to spend on things that provide immediate gratification and social visibility. The irony, of course, is that while art offers permanence and enduring value, the ephemeral pleasures of a sports car or a luxury villa depreciate rapidly, both in monetary and symbolic terms.

    The Decline of the Collector Class

    The role of the collector as a cultural custodian is nearing extinction. Few among the younger generation aspire to become connoisseurs or engage with the art market beyond treating art as décor. With the death of the collector class, the art world loses its most essential patrons—those who purchase not just to possess but to preserve. Even institutions like galleries and museums feel the sting, struggling to attract serious buyers amidst the changing consumer mindset.

    Art’s New Place: The Background

    Art today is increasingly relegated to background noise—an ornament for high-end homes or a conversation piece at cocktail parties. It serves more as a prop than a statement, more for ambiance than for contemplation. This relegation signifies not just a loss for artists, galleries, and institutions, but for society at large. A civilization without art at its core risks becoming hollow. When we neglect art, we sideline human expression, empathy, and introspection—the very elements that enrich our shared existence.

    The Need to Revive the Prestige of Art

    If art is to reclaim its prestige, the shift must come from both creators and collectors. Art institutions must work harder to engage younger audiences meaningfully, emphasizing the lasting impact that art can have beyond financial returns. Collectors, too, must rediscover the joy in curating a collection that reflects their individuality, not just their bank accounts. It is time to remind society that art is not an optional luxury but an essential part of the human experience.

    In the end, the prestige of art lies not just in possession but in participation. The true collector is one who sees beyond the market price, who invests not only money but time, emotion, and intellect. Without such collectors, art risks becoming a relic of a bygone era—a museum piece rather than a living, breathing force. The question is, will the next generation rise to the challenge, or will art become yet another casualty in the relentless pursuit of fleeting status?

  • A line

    A line

    Abhijit Pathak is an abstract artist whose mixed media works explore history, spirituality, and personal experiences through intricate layers of pigments, textiles, and numerous other materials. Rooted in his rural upbringing and inspired by cultural elements like Indian classical music, his art emphasizes the meditative power of lines and textures.

    “A line… that’s where everything begins. It’s the first breath of form, the pulse of imagination. Without lines, what remains? Chaos. It’s funny how people think abstraction is the abandonment of structure, when really, it’s about finding new ways to compose it—lines being the very bones beneath the surface, hidden but essential.

    You see, a line isn’t just a mark—it’s intent. It carries emotion. It can be sharp, like the anger you can’t speak aloud, or soft, like the memory of a lullaby. Each line I draw takes me closer to something I can’t say in words. And that is where I live—between expression and the unspoken.

    Lines also teach you restraint. When I was growing up in Bihar, everything around me seemed like stories waiting to be told. A line drawn in the soil, dividing farmland; a crack along a wall, holding history within it. It’s in the architecture, the melodies of Indian classical music, the boundaries we create between ourselves and others. Lines give meaning to space—they mark the inside and the outside, the visible and the concealed.

    It’s the first impression—lines—they’re in every human instinct. Children trace them before they know letters. That’s where my practice begins and ends. Charcoal, paper, wood, sand—whatever medium I choose—it all comes down to the basics. If the line is true, it holds everything together. A misstep? And the whole thing collapses.

    And then, there’s balance. A good line needs tension to stay alive. It must be free enough to move yet deliberate enough to ground. I think that’s what abstraction teaches—balance without rigidity, freedom within form. You can’t force it; you guide it like music. When it flows, you just know. Each stroke carries the rhythm of my life, the tempo of everything I’ve absorbed—Bihar, Varanasi, city lights, loneliness, pain, joy.

    But lines aren’t only mine. They belong to everyone. A step in one direction, a thread connecting, or dividing. They tell the story of journeys—sometimes mine, sometimes yours, or sometimes one I haven’t met yet. With every line, I’m reaching for connection, hoping someone, somewhere, will find themselves in it.

    People ask if my work ever ends. I think it never does. The line goes on, even after I leave it. It isn’t about what’s finished—it’s about what’s begun, what continues. That’s the beauty of a line. It’s endless, like the conversation between the seen and the unseen, between the self and the world. And so, I’ll keep drawing. Because as long as I create, I exist in that in-between space where everything is still possible.”

  • Between abstraction and figuration

    Between abstraction and figuration

    Vipul Kumar is a mid-career sculptor whose work fuses spirituality, mythology, and Buddhism through abstract and semi-figurative forms. Known for his mastery over ceramic textures, his sculptures invite contemplation and personal interpretation.

    1. Can you walk us through your process? How do you begin conceptualizing a new sculpture?
    Vipul Kumar: Every sculpture starts with a seed of an idea, often inspired by themes of spirituality, mythology, or Buddhist philosophy. I immerse myself in these concepts through research, contemplation, and sketching. Once the concept begins to take shape, I explore how best to translate it into abstract or semi-figurative forms, allowing room for the piece to evolve organically during the making process.

    2. Your work beautifully combines abstract and semi-figurative elements. How do you decide on this balance?
    VK: It’s intuitive. The balance between abstraction and figuration allows me to create a dialogue between what is seen and what is felt. Mythological characters or spiritual elements in my work are not rendered explicitly—they’re hinted at, inviting viewers to engage their imagination. This ambiguity brings the forms alive, encouraging individual interpretation.

    3. How does your engagement with Buddhism influence your artistic practice?
    VK: Buddhism teaches mindfulness and the beauty of impermanence, which I try to convey through my sculptures. The sense of tranquility and introspection that Buddhism emphasizes resonates deeply with me. My sculptures aim to encapsulate moments of stillness or transcendence, inviting viewers to pause and reflect on their own spiritual journeys.

    4. Can you talk about your choice of materials? Why do you often work with ceramics?
    VK: Ceramics offer both fragility and strength, which aligns perfectly with the themes I explore. Clay is malleable, allowing me to texture the surface in intricate ways that enhance the sensory experience. At the same time, once fired, the material gains a permanence that reflects the timeless nature of the narratives I engage with.

    5. The tactile quality of your sculptures is striking. How important is texture in your work?
    VK: Texture is essential—it adds depth and complexity. It’s not just about how the piece looks but how it feels. The act of texturing allows me to connect with the material on an intimate level. It’s also a way of encouraging viewers to engage with the sculpture sensorially, experiencing it beyond just visual perception.

    6. Your sculptures often depict mythological characters indirectly. How do you research and reinterpret these stories?
    VK: I spend a lot of time understanding the essence of mythological narratives. It’s not about recreating the exact stories but about capturing the emotions and timeless truths embedded within them. This subtle approach makes the themes more universal, allowing audiences to connect with them in their own way, across cultures and personal experiences.

    7. Light and shadow play significant roles in your compositions. How do you incorporate them into your design process?
    VK: Light and shadow add dimensionality to the forms. While working on the composition, I consider how the sculpture will interact with its environment—how light will fall on the surfaces and create varying intensities of shadow. It brings the piece to life, offering different perspectives as the viewer moves around it.

    8. As a mid-career artist, how do you keep pushing the boundaries of your practice?
    VK: Experimentation is key. I don’t restrict myself to a particular theme or material—I constantly explore new ideas and techniques. Challenges and failures are part of the process, and I embrace them as learning opportunities. Staying curious keeps my practice evolving and helps me discover new facets of both the material and myself as an artist.

  • I am free

    I am free

    Rubkirat Vohra is an abstract artist whose work bridges architecture and emotion, drawing inspiration from the Mehrab to explore structure, balance, and personal freedom. Trained in architecture, she transforms geometric forms into fluid expressions, staying grounded while evolving with new materials and ideas.

    “My hands move instinctively, tracing the lines, the angles—each stroke rooted in something ancient, something sacred. The Mehrab, to most, is just an architectural form, but to me, it’s more. It’s a symbol of resilience, of structure amidst chaos. In its symmetry, I find my balance, my grounding. Yet, it’s not rigid—no, my process allows me to break free, to bend those lines, to let them flow where they need to.
This is my sanctuary, my release from the world’s noise. When I’m in this space, creating, the negativity doesn’t touch me. It can’t. The shapes I draw, the forms I create—they are my escape, my liberation. The stone and historical architecture that I reference, they remind me of strength, yes, but in transforming them into abstraction, I reclaim a fluidity. I am no longer bound by what is seen or expected. I reshape reality on my terms.


    Through the Mehrab, I create my own path, my own narrative. And in that space, I am free. Free from doubt, free from fear, free from everything that pulls me down. Every line is a step towards clarity, every form a new possibility. This is where I live, in this moment, beyond the walls of the world.

    My architectural training was my foundation, the bedrock upon which I’ve built my practice. For me, Architecture is a celebration of life, the manifestation of an idea. The discipline of architecture taught me the language of space and structure—the importance of form, the weight of geometry. It trained my eye to see beyond what is immediate, to understand the invisible forces that hold things together. But art allowed me to loosen the reins, to take those rigid principles and let them evolve into something more expressive. The unending chain of construction, deconstruction and reconstruction to faith in reincarnation- the cycle of birth, death and rebirth.. all reaffirm the belief in the recurrence of time. The stoicism of stone and history became a metaphor in my hands, a medium through which I could channel emotion, thought, and reflection.


    As I look to the future, I feel a pull towards experimentation—working with different materials, textures, and even light. I want to push beyond paint and canvas, to use more of stone, cement, iron and wood to explore the tactile, to touch and reshape what was once immovable. Perhaps I’ll start incorporating fragments of new age material into my work, creating layers that play with light and shadow. There’s an excitement in the unknown, in allowing the material itself to guide me, and I believe this will take my practice to places I haven’t yet imagined.


    Evolving as an artist is inevitable. With every piece, I feel my relationship with form deepening, my understanding of the world expanding. I’m learning to embrace the unpredictability of art, to allow for fluidity even within the constraints of structure. This journey is far from over—it’s constantly shifting, just as I am. Each individual is distinctly identifiable, yet is a member of a clan, the society!! I am always discovering new perspectives, not only on the architectural motifs I revere but on life itself. That’s the beauty of art: it grows with you, it transforms as you transform, and I am eager to see where it takes me next.”

  • The Revival of Traditional Mediums: Textile, Printmaking, Sculpture, and Their Modern Derivatives

    The Revival of Traditional Mediums: Textile, Printmaking, Sculpture, and Their Modern Derivatives

    In recent years, there has been a noticeable revival of traditional artistic mediums such as textiles, printmaking, and sculpture. These practices, once considered niche or outdated in the face of newer digital forms, are returning with renewed significance in contemporary art. This revival is not merely nostalgic; it reflects a deeper movement toward reconnecting with craftsmanship, materiality, and storytelling. As artists explore these mediums in new ways—while also developing innovative derivatives—this resurgence signals a shift in artistic values, emphasizing process, heritage, and sustainability.

    Why Are Traditional Mediums Making a Comeback?

    Several cultural and social factors contribute to the return of traditional art forms. There is a growing desire among artists and audiences to reconnect with tactile experiences in an increasingly digital world. The act of creating with one’s hands—whether through weaving, carving, or printing—offers a slower, meditative process that contrasts with the speed of technology. Additionally, as society becomes more conscious of sustainability, many artists are turning to time-honored techniques that use natural, eco-friendly materials.

    The revival also reflects a pushback against the commodification of art. Unlike digital works, which can be easily reproduced, traditional mediums often produce unique, labor-intensive pieces. This focus on craftsmanship brings new depth to contemporary art, encouraging artists to celebrate imperfections, materiality, and process.

    Textile Art: Beyond Craft into Fine Art

    Textile-based art, once relegated to the category of craft, has re-emerged as a respected fine art medium. Contemporary artists use techniques such as weaving, embroidery, and quilting to explore themes of identity, history, and memory. Many also draw on traditional textile practices specific to their cultural heritage, blending these techniques with modern narratives.

    Artists like Anni Albers paved the way by treating textiles as abstract art forms, and today’s practitioners are expanding on her legacy. Others use discarded or repurposed fabrics, turning textile art into a statement on sustainability. Textile works are not just visually rich but also tactile, inviting viewers to engage with them through both sight and touch, offering a sensory experience that is rare in contemporary art.

    Printmaking: Tradition Meets Experimentation

    Printmaking has a long history, but contemporary artists are finding ways to innovate within the medium. Techniques such as woodcuts, etching, and lithography are being revisited with a modern twist, often combined with digital methods to create hybrid prints. Printmaking also holds appeal because of its accessibility—artists can create multiple impressions, making it more democratic than many other art forms.

    More importantly, the process of printmaking embodies a sense of patience and craftsmanship. The tactile interaction with plates, presses, and ink offers artists a grounded experience that contrasts with the immediacy of digital work. Screen printing—popularized by artists like Andy Warhol—continues to evolve, blending fine art with street culture and activism.

    Printmakers today often use their art to explore personal and political themes, creating works that convey layers of meaning through intricate textures and repetition. Printmaking’s ability to produce multiples opens opportunities for collaborations with communities, making it a popular tool for socially engaged art.

    Sculpture: Expanding into New Territories

    Sculpture, traditionally associated with stone or bronze, is experiencing a renaissance as artists experiment with diverse materials such as clay, glass, recycled objects, and even organic matter. This material diversity reflects the expanded scope of contemporary sculpture, which now explores everything from environmental concerns to personal narratives.

    Beyond the material, artists are pushing the boundaries of what sculpture can be. Installation art, for example, blurs the line between sculpture and space, transforming entire environments into immersive experiences. Kinetic sculptures introduce movement, while sound sculptures use vibrations and acoustics as part of their form. This evolution makes sculpture a dynamic, evolving practice that engages all the senses.

    Derivatives of Traditional Mediums: Where Craft Meets Innovation

    One of the most exciting aspects of the revival is the way artists blend traditional practices with contemporary techniques to create new forms. For example, fiber artists are combining weaving and embroidery with video projections, turning textiles into interactive installations. Similarly, sculptors might integrate robotics or sensors into their works, creating pieces that respond to the viewer’s presence.

    In printmaking, artists are merging analog and digital techniques—creating works that begin with hand-carved linocuts and end as digital prints on fabric or ceramics. The fusion of old and new not only pushes the boundaries of these mediums but also challenges the traditional distinctions between fine art, craft, and design.

    What This Revival Means for Contemporary Art

    The resurgence of textiles, printmaking, and sculpture speaks to a broader shift in contemporary art toward authenticity, material engagement, and process-driven practices. These mediums encourage artists and audiences alike to slow down and appreciate the labor and care embedded in each piece. They also highlight the value of imperfection—something that contrasts with the polish of digital art.

    This revival aligns with the growing interest in sustainability. Many artists use traditional techniques to work with natural or recycled materials, reducing their environmental impact. This movement also reconnects contemporary artists with their cultural heritage, bridging past and present through the use of ancient practices in modern contexts.

    Conclusion: A Revival Rooted in Purpose and Innovation

    The revival of traditional mediums like textiles, printmaking, and sculpture reflects a desire to reconnect with materiality, craftsmanship, and cultural heritage in an increasingly digital and fast-paced world. These mediums offer artists opportunities to innovate while maintaining a sense of authenticity and engagement with process. Whether through the tactile richness of textile art, the patience of printmaking, or the evolving forms of sculpture, these practices invite viewers to slow down, reflect, and connect more deeply with art.

    As artists continue to explore the intersections between tradition and innovation, they are redefining what these mediums can be. This revival is not simply about returning to the past; it is about building bridges between old and new, finding relevance in ancient practices, and pushing them into uncharted territories. In doing so, traditional mediums are not only surviving—they are thriving, offering contemporary art a renewed sense of purpose, meaning, and connection.

  • Why Galleries Should Stay Open to the Public (Even if Architects Buy Most of the Art)

    Why Galleries Should Stay Open to the Public (Even if Architects Buy Most of the Art)

    Imagine if galleries went exclusive, catering only to architects, designers, and consultants:

    1. Architects Can’t Have All the Fun: If only designers got in, they’d treat every show like a treasure hunt—”This painting will really pull together my client’s bathroom!”
    2. Consultants with Clipboards: Imagine every visitor obsessively calculating the “art-to-wall ratio.” You’d never sell a piece until someone did a cost-benefit analysis.
    3. Designers Need an Audience: Half the joy of buying art is flaunting it. If no ordinary souls are around to envy them, does the purchase even count?
    4. Where’s the Romance? That spontaneous love story between a visitor and an unexpected artwork? Gone. (And without them, who will post it with the caption: “OMG, this piece just gets me.”)
    5. Future Collectors in Disguise: Today’s casual art lover in flip-flops might be tomorrow’s HNI with deep pockets and questionable taste. Close the door on them now, and poof—there goes your next big sale.
    6. The Joy of Window Shoppers: Sure, not everyone who wanders in will buy. But hey, free compliments and an occasional “Your gallery is so Instagrammable!” aren’t the worst things in the world.

    In short? Keep those doors open. You never know if your next patron is an architect—or just someone who came in for the free food and beverage.